


Blowing off Steam

by Accal1a



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, stiles is something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:13:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4362638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/pseuds/Accal1a
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's just something about Donovan which Stiles can't shake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blowing off Steam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MidnightBlueMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightBlueMoon/gifts).



> I can't, I just...what is this 'rare pair' hell I have found myself in?

“STILINSKI!”

Stiles looked up at the interruption, sighing as he did so. Could they not get through just _one_ normal interaction without something else getting in the way? His dad sorely needed some time off and just as he was finally about to have an evening of normalcy someone broke the quiet. He had half a mind to just shout back that he wasn’t in and push his father out of a fire exit. 

The gruff voice echoing round the sheriff’s station sounded familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. He stopped fussing with his father’s lapels and followed him out into the open office area.

“I’m going to kill you!”

Stiles sighed again. It just never bloody stopped, did it? He stared at the prisoner who was flanked by two deputies, struggling slightly. Now he put a voice to the face he was utterly convinced that he knew the guy in front of him but still couldn’t place where from. 

“Donovan, if you think that shocks me, remember it was well documented in your ‘anger expression inventory’. Deputies, please escort the prisoner out.”

Stiles’ brain was now working at full speed. Was that: ‘failed his deputy assessment’ Donovan?; ‘A few years above them at school and always a bit of a loner and kind of aloof but still inexplicably cool’ Donovan? 

“I’m not angry like ‘I’m going to throw a brick through your window’, I’m angry like ‘I’m going to find you and I’m going to get a knife and I’m going to stab you with it until you’re dead. And when you look at me and you ask me ‘why?’; remember right now, ‘cos this is ‘why?’.”

Holy incarcerated hotness, it _was_ that Donovan. This guy, who had clearly formed a grudge against his father and was mouthing off, was someone Stiles used to, and apparently still did, fancy.

This was _not_ happening. 

Stiles was not in any way attracted to a criminal. A sassy, adorable, floppy haired, criminal. No, this was precisely _not_ what was happening. 

Stiles’ self-preservation sarcasm was a last bastion of defence and it was definitely time to engage it now. Scott was going to see straight through it and he’d be mocked about it later but at least he’d have got through the interaction relatively unscathed.

“Wow. That was _awesome_. That was awesome, that was great. Can we do one more, maybe give us another one, maybe like Christopher Walken this time? Okay, you know what? It’s fine. You’ll have plenty of time to work on it when you’re in a tiny little cell, you know, just stuck there…forever.”

Donovan launched himself at Stiles and Stiles didn’t even flinch, at least knowing the guy had murderous intentions curbed the lust. 

Slightly.

~~~

Stiles wasn’t sure what made him do it. 

It may have been a morbid curiosity, or maybe he was trying to prove to himself that he didn’t have a crush after all; and that it was an accident that he thought he did. Either way, he snuck into the sheriff’s station and down to the holding cells anyway.

“What are you doing here, Stilinski?”

This was such a monumentally stupid idea. He turned round and intended to walk back out when he heard the locks disengage to the holding cell. Spinning back round, he saw the door swing open as well.

Donovan glanced over at the now open door and Stiles had a moment of indecision before he launched himself at Donovan, pushing him backwards until he bumped into a wall. Donovan was surprised at the sudden attack and didn’t have time to mount much of a defence. 

Stiles’ arm was across his chest holding Donovan to the wall and he was suddenly very aware of how close they were. They were sharing the same air, totally in each other’s personal space and Stiles had the startling revelation that they were both breathing far too heavily from the very small amount of energy expended.

He couldn’t say afterwards who had initiated the contact but suddenly Stiles was pinning Donovan to the wall for totally different reasons. He had his hands in Donovan’s too long hair, kissing him forcefully, his tongue darting in and out of the older man’s mouth as he tried to retain control of the kiss. 

Donovan was holding his own and vying for dominance almost immediately, his arms wrapped around Stiles and grabbing his T-shirt in his fists, almost ripping the fabric with the force of it. 

They stayed like that for an age, bruising kisses giving way to occasional biting of lips and Stiles tasted blood at one point. He didn’t know whether it was his or Donovan’s; and didn’t even care.

Donovan pushed Stiles backwards slightly, enough that he had the space to change their positions, Stiles slamming into the wall this time and not caring that he banged his head.

Stiles could barely think, let alone rationalise what the hell he thought he was doing. Shouldn’t he have sounded an alarm when the cell door opened, not tried to hold Donovan down himself? How was he going to explain this one if anyone walked in on them?

Donovan was scrabbling at Stiles’ t-shirt again and the touch of his hands on Stiles’ bare skin was enough to make all of his thoughts disappear. All he needed was more of _this_ : More of Donovan’s hands running along his stomach; more of the brutal, almost painful, kisses. 

When Stiles’ T-shirt was lifted up, he obediently raised his arms to have it taken off. They definitely needed far fewer clothes right now.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Donovan to only half take the shirt off. Now, with his T-shirt bunched around the tops of his arms and face, he was not only blind but slightly restrained. Apparently his dick was more than happy with that fact, if the slight jump it made in his trousers was anything to go by. 

Stiles was still struggling to get out of the shirt in the very limited space; when Donovan’s deep chuckle was the only warning Stiles had that something else was going to happen. 

Donovan simultaneously pinned Stiles’ wrists to the wall above with one hand and twisted one of his nipples with the other. Stiles made a strangled sound in the back of his throat and his breathing got quicker.

“You like that?” Donovan asked.

Not waiting for an answer, he repeated the move, this time pinching one nipple and biting on the other.

“Fuck!” Stiles exclaimed, struggling against Donovan’s hold on his wrists.

Donovan clamped down harder in response and Stiles vaguely wondered whether he’d have bruises on his wrists tomorrow. 

Stiles felt the T-shirt get tugged up higher and he was hopeful that he’d get a chance to turn the tables on Donovan again; not being able to touch the other guy was torture in itself. The sensations were too much without the distraction of pleasuring the other person too. 

It didn’t work out that way though. 

Donovan pulled the neck of Stiles’ T-shirt up with his free hand, tweaked his nipple hard and used the exclamation Stiles used to jam the neck of the T-shirt into his mouth. Pulling down the rest of the T-shirt, he jammed as much as he could in Stiles’ mouth as well.

“There.” Donovan said proudly.

Stiles could now see but that did nothing to lessen the whole experience. He was seriously in trouble now.

Over the next ten minutes, Donovan systematically teased Stiles by first sucking on and then twisting each of his nipples whilst still holding him still against the wall. By the end of it, Stiles was panting into the makeshift gag, his pupils blown wide and a very obvious erection in his pants.

Donovan let up on the pressure on Stiles’ wrists for a second, but a second was all it took. Stiles had used his chest to push him away from the wall slightly, using the time that Donovan stumbled to finally extract himself from his T-shirt.

Donovan backed up when Stiles came towards him, tripped over his own feet as he did so and fell to the ground. It would have been comical if there was anything funny about what was going on.

Stiles was on the floor in a second, tugging Donovan’s jacket off in one fluid movement and almost ripping his t-shirt as he pulled it over his head. When they were both finally shirtless, Stiles pushed him to the floor, straddling him as he did so.

He reached down to grab Donovan’s wrists as his hands came up to touch Stiles again and he was the one doing the pinning this time. He leant over and gave Donovan a harsh kiss and then proceeded to lick and suck his way down his neck and collarbone, eliciting yelps and moans from him as he did so.

“You like that?” Stiles asked, parroting Donovan’s question from earlier.

Donovan, for his part, seemed to have lost the power of speech and Stiles took that as a ringing endorsement, that and the bulge that had formed and was pressing against Stiles’ own. 

Stiles let go of Donovan’s wrists so he could once again grip onto his hair and deliver a commanding kiss. Donovan bucked up and spun them round so Stiles was the one on the floor. They wrestled like that for some time, each getting the upper hand for a moment, the panting getting louder the longer they went on.

Eventually (and neither of them could have told you afterwards which one initiated), zippers were pulled down, pants were discarded and they were both naked, rubbing up against each other and moaning wantonly. 

Spit slicked fingers were all the preparation that was needed for either of them. This wasn’t an act of love, nor even one of like, just two people in lust, taking what they wanted and not looking back. 

Stiles was tight and hot and Donovan couldn’t find a comparison in his brain for what it was like, then Stiles shifted slightly and he suddenly lost the ability to think anyway. Pushing in and pulling out at speed, with very little thought to anything but his own pleasure, was a release in and of itself. He did have just enough thought left to realise that when he was getting close, he should reach round to grab Stiles; but Stiles swatted his hand away. Donovan didn’t care why. 

Stiles let Donovan get to completion and then pulled away from him quickly so he could spin him round to prepare him in the same way. Slipping in, Stiles was similarly struck by how hot and wet Donovan was. It was like nothing else he had ever felt. Holding Donovan’s hips in his hands, he thrust into him over and over again, grunting as he did so. He knew full well that the grip he was using was going to form bruises on Donovan’s hips and he didn’t care, even revelled in the thought.

When they were both spent, they lay side by side on the cold floor only long enough for their neurons to start firing again and their legs to start working. They re-dressed in silence, with occasional glares.

Stiles paused at the door to the cell and turned. 

“If you come near my Dad, I’ll kill you.”

“If you get in my way, I’ll kill you first.”

Stiles walked out of the holding cell and didn’t look back. He thought afterwards that he heard the sound of a lock click as he did so.

**Author's Note:**

> [Join the madness](Stonovan.Tumblr.com).


End file.
